Doonan’s main point is that desperate times call for desperate measures, and strong-willed people to be proactive about results. Strong-willed people like Dorian Corey, who, as Doonan succinctly summed it up, “shot and killed an intruder and successfully hid his body in a plaid garment bag FOR OVER 25  YEARS!!!!” It was vigilante justice against a convicted rapist and robber, so Doonan gives her a “Sachay, chantay!” for that. Corey’s killer qualifications also include:

She escaped rural hell and snagged a window-dressing gig in a Buffalo department store. (As a card-carrying member of the window dressing fraternity, I say, “Fierce!”) In the 1950’s she came to New York and studied art at Parsons. The lure of the sequin propelled her into show-business and a starring role in the legendary Pearl Box Review. She became an integral part of this touring troupe of tinsel’d trannies. Her specialty? Dorian had a unique talent for striking glamorous and artistic attitudes while clutching a live boa constrictor.

Doonan concludes that “at the very least,” Dorian “would have thrown [the BP team] some serious shade.” If fixing the oil leak in the Gulf were a matter of will, then sure, type-A vigilante drag queens would do a better job than Tony Hayward. But what about the part of fixing the oil leak that involves physics and engineering? Doonan doesn’t really answer that. And lest you think the question is too serious to ask of an article calling for drags queens to save America, Doonan insists that he is “deadly serious.”

Somewhere in the complicated story of Dorian Corey, Doonan is right about something: the entrepreneurial spirit is what will fix the oil spill, just as it solves most problems. Being proactive and defiant in the face of tough challenges is the only way to overcome them, and it takes a certain audacity to be a drag queen that would come in handy in taking risks to save the planet. Now if BP could only give RuPaul a few Newtonian mechanics lessons, we’d be saved.

Writing for the New York Observer, Barney’s Creative Director Simon Doonan gave his side of the story, and called out Andrew Breitbart, publisher of the original report. Mediaite contacted Breitbart and got his reply.

First, some background. On December 23rd, the website Big Government, of which Breitbart is the publisher, posted a story reporting on a variety of ornaments adorning the White House Christmas tree with various images some found controversial — specifically, images of Chairman Mao, an image of Mt. Rushmore with President Barack Obama inserted in the monument, and transvestite/performance artist Hedda Lettuce. This story caught on like wildfire on conservative blogs, and even earned mention by FNC news anchor Bret Baier.

Breitbart showed a wry appreciation for Doonan’s explanation: “Look, I love John Waters at the Angelika Theater; I don’t love John Waters at the White House for Christmas.”

Secondary storylines came and went, but this story was received rather predictably along partisan lines. Conservatives felt that the unseemly decor represented a lack of respect for a Christian holiday by the current administration; liberals saw this as much ado about nothing at best, gotcha media at worst. What was missing was an official explanation on how these images found their way to the White House tree — that is, until yesterday, when Simon Doonan explained how this all went down.

Doonan does a remarkably entertaining job of explaining how he came to be in charge of White House decor — from meeting White House Social Secretary Desiree Rogers, to meeting the First Lady, to arriving with the concept that led to the risqué tree trimming. In short, it was a rather clever way to reuse old decorations that had been mothballed in a warehouse, and reinvent them by sending them out to various community centers for custom decor. The problematic ornaments somehow sneaked through the editing process, as they were lost in the roughly 800 ornaments that ended up adorning the tree.

While Doonan gleefully details his transformation into “First Elf,” in full patriotic splendor, he reserves his most pitched vitriol towards both the bloggers who criticized him, and Mr. Breitbart, the publisher behind the original report:

And so to you, Mr. Breitbart. Now that the dust has settled and the homicidal emails have slowed to a trickle, I realize that I owe you a debt of gratitude. By dropping the First Elf in the poop, you have unwittingly provided me with a searing insight into the pathetic and disastrous state of our comment-obsessed culture. Thanks to you, I see now that there are two kinds of people in the world: In the first group, we have those who “do,” and in the second group, we have those who sit at their computers on their ever-widening asses blogging, platforming and commenting on the not-always-perfect efforts of the first group. Tinselgate has renewed my commitment to keep my tight ass fairly and squarely plonked in that first group.

When reached by Mediaite, a good-humored Breitbart was eager to respond to Doonan, and he gave as good as he got. Breitbart: “Context and perspective is everything. Its clear that this guy is not your typical Barbara Bush White House decorator. I have no problem with him doing this at Barney’s, a private residence, a gallery … whatever. This story struck a nerve because it perfectly illustrated an administration that is either tone deaf or has contempt for the millions of Americans who look at Christmas as a traditional Christian holiday.”

Regarding the violent emails which Doonan claimed to receive, Breitbart defended himself thusly: “he’s ascribing on to me the alleged opinions of those who have attacked him. Andrew Breitbart didn’t give out email addresses. We just showed the pictures.” Breitbart continued, “Its funny how his sharp tongue and ‘I for Irony’ are so vital to his work. But I’m not allowed to point out the juxtaposition of a transvestite (or Messianic image of Obama) on the White House Christmas Tree? I’m just using the mirror back on him.” On the back-and-forth attacks: “Welcome to the public arena, my friend.”

In the end, though, Breitbart showed a wry appreciation for Doonan’s explanation: “Look, I love John Waters at the Angelika Theater; I don’t love John Waters at the White House for Christmas.”

In his real life, Doonan is the Creative Director of the New York department store Barneys, and is responsible for, among other things, the store’s street-level window displays. Earlier this week, the store revealed its displays for the season the theme of which, in the grandest of holiday traditions, is Saturday Night Live. If you find that to be an odd choice, I’d guess you’re not alone.

The displays are heavy on allusion to various characters, scenes and personalities from the series’ 35 years – but deciphering each of those references is hindered by the primary mode of presentation, papier-mâché. (Or, as Americans say: paper mache. Barney’s generally prefers the fancy French spelling.) I can’t help but suspect that this medium was chosen primarily to evoke sympathy – after all, it’s possible, if not probable, that they were actually made by a class of  fourth graders. If their teacher saw fit to distribute gold stars for their hard work, who could possibly mock them?

Well, me. I’ve done my best, below, to identify the references in each of the four windows.  I have done poorly. Therefore, I appeal to you, Internet, to help fill in the blanks as much as these somewhat dark and small photos will allow. Hop to!

Window 1

Let me demonstrate my immense SNL knowledge right off the bat: this is primarily about the Coneheads. (Don’t be intimidated by my powerful intellect folks. Just do your best.)

In the close-up, at right, you can see how I pieced this one together. The mouth full of cigarettes, the six-pack of beer, the capes – all hints toward which long-running gag this pays testament to.  Also, the shape of the heads.

(You may not have known, though, that the Coneheads were also big fans of Vanity Fair. Is it possible that a similar cranial structure is what’s buried beneath all that hair?)

Window 2

This one is a bit more complicated. Will Ferrell as Janet Reno, while an odd choice, is easy to spot, as is Dana Carvey‘s Church Lady and Brian Fellow, whose name is helpfully written (and misspelled) on his glasses. Father Guido Sarducci is between these two, in the center back.

There are five other floating heads here that are near incomprehensible. For example, the one behind Brian Fellow appears to be Matt Foley, though I only guessed that because, underneath him, it says, “In a van down by the river.” It also says, “Suck it, Trebek,” though, so who knows.

Oh, I just realized that the two in the upper left of the small photo are Wayne and Garth. Good luck on the two remaining.

>>>NEXT: Paper-mache Tina Fey, Sarah Palin, Gilly and Pat